


Best Enemies

by Spindleshanking



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spindleshanking/pseuds/Spindleshanking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina remembers the first time she met Rumplestiltskin after the casting the Dark Curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> Slowly cross-posting things from my LJ. This is actually part of a (projected) longer series, but this particular one shot stands well enough on its own. One of the first fanfics I wrote for OUAT.

Their first meeting in Storybrooke ranked among the most surreal encounters of their long acquaintance. Mayor Regina Mills (which admittedly didn’t quite have the same ring as Queen) was picking up a gallon of milk at Mr Clark’s little grocery store when, quite by accident, out of the corner of her eye she spied a dark figure lurking in the pharmaceuticals at the end of the aisle.

It was a middle-aged gentleman in an expensive suit, contemplating a bottle of painkillers in his left hand. The other gripped the gleaming handle of a cane, angled out to support his weight while he stood. By chance, he tossed back the graying hair sliding into his eyes and looked in her direction. Regina found herself fixed by an unfamiliar gaze; dark, piercing, and burning with a frightening intensity.

"Mayor Mills," he courteously greeted with a nod of his head in a tired voice pitched lower than she'd expected. A glint of gold nestled among his sharp, but intact teeth.

In that brief instant their eyes locked, Regina searched hungrily for a glimmer of awareness in that dark countenance, for a flash of impish glee revealing something he’d neglected to share with her, for evidence that she had unsuccessfully actualized every promise of the Dark Curse; in short, she hunted for anything suggesting that somehow Rumplestiltskin had been able to hoodwink the strongest magic that she--or anyone else--had ever cast in the history of the realm. But with mixed feelings, she only found the same complacency that glazed the eyes of every other Storybrooke citizen.

"Mister Gold."

The pawnbroker offered her a last unreadable smile before his attention returned to the bottle of ibuprofen in his hand. He grabbed a second, then turned to make his slow but steady way towards the single checkout counter in a halting gait punctuated by heavy taps of the cane that she saw rather than heard over the noise of the busy afternoon crowd. Once Mr Gold had exchanged a crisp banknote for his purchases, he disappeared out onto the overcast street without a single glance back in her direction.

Thus concluded the shortest, most civil exchange they'd ever shared.

It was bizarre to see him without his scaly gold skin and swirling madness, standing so still and so lucid, so dignified, so vulnerable, so... human. If she hadn’t seen his face, she would not have recognized him as the great Rumplestiltskin. Was this the man inside the monster, or the monster clad in human skin?

Certainly there was satisfaction in witnessing her oldest and best enemy so helpless. Although she’d done her best to provide him “comfort” as per her end of the deal, she appreciated the Curse’s cruel sense of humor. He was literally crippled without his magic, walking among disgruntled clients who would not hesitate in taking advantage of the situation if they ever recalled their dealings in a previous life. It served him right, the underhanded creep. It amused her.

Yet, at the same time, the victory lost some of its savor. How could she smugly flaunt her success in his face if Rumplestiltskin no longer remembered why she had wanted to best him in the first place? She had finally made him weak, but what did it matter when he himself could not comprehend the extent of what had been ripped from him? She would never receive his recognition of her triumph. It galled her more than she’d expected.

Mr Gold was a mere shadow of the creature she once knew, whose knowledge of their rivalry had been reduced to false memories of land wars and petty political struggles--so superficial and so hollow compared to what they once had. It never occurred that she would miss seeing the decades of shared history shining back at her in those wide, insane eyes, reassuring her that no matter what horrible deed she commit next, someone in this world would always understand her without explanation. Now that was gone, too, along with the father who loved her unconditionally, leaving her truly alone.

And for the first time since she arrived in Storybrooke, loneliness suddenly pricked at the place where her heart ought to have been.

Trust Rumplestiltskin to taint what was assuredly her most complete and glorious triumph to date simply by existing. It was so typical of him to appear just to identify what she had done wrong. She wouldn’t be at all surprised to receive a visit from him tonight, pointing out how she could have made Mary Margaret homeless in the woods instead of a penniless school teacher and for a price, he could still fix it for her. He’d always been such a smug, cheeky, self-serving, childish bastard of a know-it-all with a sing-song voice and an obnoxious giggle who had always seemed a little too helpful to Snow White for her liking.

Now that really she thought about it, he deserved to be miserable for a while. He had been years overdue for a lesson in humility; she was doing him a favor, honestly. Better her than someone else. Who knew? Maybe Mr Gold might be an improvement on Rumplestiltskin. He was certainly more presentable.

Mood considerably improved, Regina detoured to the freezer for a pint of chocolate ice cream--she deserved it--and went to pay for her shopping.

Come first snow fall, perhaps she’d ice his front steps in a friendly gesture of ill-will.


End file.
